[ The Doctor's had a storied and complicated history with various military institutions over the course of his long life. Notably, his protracted time spent with UNIT while exiled on Earth in his youth offered him a different perspective and broadened his mind, even if he'll always have concerns about the military and their weapons in particular. Broadening the mind, though — isn't that the point, really, of living at all?
Even now, even here, while he feels a surge of displeasure at the military drills, he alternately feels a pang at the recollection of memories long past now, of one of his oldest and dearest friends, the Brigadier; what would he think now, what would he have to say about all of this? No, no, best forget; forget, like he always does. Never would he ever dwell in memory...
But they're doing their drills, these soldiers, and he worries as much as he's wary of the potential fate to come, the fate that tilts on precarious ground. War and magic, and dark things he can only wonder at thus far, until he knows more about this place. Whatever it takes, though, he'll see to it that the people here are safe, all of them. As he always does, he keeps ever busy, sticking his nose where it does and doesn't belong, asking questions he shouldn't ask, bothering endearing himself to anyone who will listen, but especially those who won't. ]
The Hall of Natural Relics [ If you catch him inside, he'll be observing everything he can with rapt attention and genuine enthusiasm, his hands clasped behind his back as he leans in to see, understand, learn. The relics here will tell him more about the world around them, and his mind is working ten times faster than that of any human mind, processing everything he takes in, memorizing the details, storing it away, cross-referencing with everything he's ever encountered in his long years. One particular set of skeletal remains intrigues him and he leans in for a closer look, a wide smile on his face. ]
A beauty, isn't it? With a story to tell, like all of us.
Wandering [ The Doctor's picked up a few odd jobs here and there — not for genuine want of money, but out of necessity, as these things go — and he's enjoyed being kept busy, along with the chance to learn more about the Free Cities in his adventures. And that's what this is, essentially — another adventure, albeit one unlike anything he's encountered before.
He hasn't bothered looking for a place of residence; rarely sleeping, he has little need, though he's made do when he's needed to. At some point, perhaps, he'll settle in somewhere, but for now, he's more content being untethered. The TARDIS is his home, after all, and without his old girl he's far too restless to "settle" for the moment.
One particular day, as night draws near and the stars spread across the sky, the Doctor casts his gaze skyward, a whimsical smile on his face. He'll speak easily to anyone passing by. ]
Beautiful, aren't they? No matter how many times I look up. They'll all look different on other planets, of course, accounting for axial tilt and atmospheric variations, scattering light in all different directions. Some of those stars up there might already have died, but we wouldn't know it standing here. The light a star gives out on its last breath can take thousands, millions, billions of years to reach us here at this moment. The finite speed of light. The wonder of the universe.
★ CADENS | OTA | SEPTEMBER
Even now, even here, while he feels a surge of displeasure at the military drills, he alternately feels a pang at the recollection of memories long past now, of one of his oldest and dearest friends, the Brigadier; what would he think now, what would he have to say about all of this? No, no, best forget; forget, like he always does. Never would he ever dwell in memory...
But they're doing their drills, these soldiers, and he worries as much as he's wary of the potential fate to come, the fate that tilts on precarious ground. War and magic, and dark things he can only wonder at thus far, until he knows more about this place. Whatever it takes, though, he'll see to it that the people here are safe, all of them. As he always does, he keeps ever busy, sticking his nose where it does and doesn't belong, asking questions he shouldn't ask,
botheringendearing himself to anyone who will listen, but especially those who won't. ]The Hall of Natural Relics
[ If you catch him inside, he'll be observing everything he can with rapt attention and genuine enthusiasm, his hands clasped behind his back as he leans in to see, understand, learn. The relics here will tell him more about the world around them, and his mind is working ten times faster than that of any human mind, processing everything he takes in, memorizing the details, storing it away, cross-referencing with everything he's ever encountered in his long years. One particular set of skeletal remains intrigues him and he leans in for a closer look, a wide smile on his face. ]
A beauty, isn't it? With a story to tell, like all of us.
Wandering
[ The Doctor's picked up a few odd jobs here and there — not for genuine want of money, but out of necessity, as these things go — and he's enjoyed being kept busy, along with the chance to learn more about the Free Cities in his adventures. And that's what this is, essentially — another adventure, albeit one unlike anything he's encountered before.
He hasn't bothered looking for a place of residence; rarely sleeping, he has little need, though he's made do when he's needed to. At some point, perhaps, he'll settle in somewhere, but for now, he's more content being untethered. The TARDIS is his home, after all, and without his old girl he's far too restless to "settle" for the moment.
One particular day, as night draws near and the stars spread across the sky, the Doctor casts his gaze skyward, a whimsical smile on his face. He'll speak easily to anyone passing by. ]
Beautiful, aren't they? No matter how many times I look up. They'll all look different on other planets, of course, accounting for axial tilt and atmospheric variations, scattering light in all different directions. Some of those stars up there might already have died, but we wouldn't know it standing here. The light a star gives out on its last breath can take thousands, millions, billions of years to reach us here at this moment. The finite speed of light. The wonder of the universe.